Butterfly
by Rhianna-Aurora
Summary: Captain Swan. An AU, "what-if" scenario for "Snow Drifts"/"There's No Place Like Home". If little changes to the past can have major consequences, what happens when the change is big?


**A/N: Just an AU headcanon I've had bouncing around in my head since the finale.**

_Remember what you said about small changes having consequences? ... What about _**big**_ changes?_

It was the ripple effect, the whole stepping-on-a-butterfly and creating a hurricane thing. If even one thing had gone differently ... it wouldn't have happened the way that it did.

She shouldn't have gone back to his ship, she knew that, it wasn't part of the _plan_. But she told herself she couldn't run the risk of him running into ... well, _himself_. That was the excuse she'd use, anyway, to avoid the real reason.

She didn't want him leaving with anyone else.

She really didn't have to worry, it turned out, because apparently the Killian from her timeline had completed his part of the mission, and was likely waiting at their agreed upon rendezvous point even now.

She should have left.

But the moment her lips crashed against his, and she was flooded with that familiar feeling of warmth, of how _right _it all was, did it occur to her, _finally_, that maybe there was a reason for that. Maybe it was because her lips were only ever supposed to kiss his lips anyway ... no matter what the timeline. And the longer this kiss continued, the more she could feel things ... memories in her mind ... _shifting_. And so she let it continue, knowing that this was changing things ... but she liked the changes it was making.

His lips trailed down her neck, and she remembered meeting him, in Storybrooke, when she'd first arrived. His hand slid up along the sides of her corset, and she could remember those first few awkward dates-that-they-didn't-call-dates over drinks at the bar. She felt his hook tugging at the laces of the bodice, and remembered fighting with him outside of Granny's, because she'd wanted to leave, to go back to Boston, and he had called her a coward for running away.

With every touch, every breath, every brush of lips over skin, every move they made together, she could feel the tapestry in her mind changing its shape, taking on new form, becoming something _beautiful_, where once it had only been a mess. Every soft sigh, every murmured nonsensical word of passion and need, it all became so much clearer in her mind.

He had always been there, he had always been part of it.

She remembered the day she'd gone to Henry's castle, and found the two of them, laughing and talking as if they were old friends, only to find out that he had become part of Operation Cobra without her knowledge. She remembered Henry's urging her not-so-subtly to "give the guy a chance".

He was there when Henry had died, he'd held her and soothed her and cried with her at the hospital, and when the curse had been broken, and he'd remembered his old life, he'd cried with her again, as he had told her everything he remembered.

Including this night. The night he'd said everything had changed for him.

As their clothes fell to a heap on the floor of the Captain's quarters of the Jolly Roger, Emma could feel the way her whole life shifted from this choice, the new memories meshing with the old, as if they'd been there all along.

And in the morning, after she'd scribbled her name on a loose slip of paper for him to find, the only thing he would need, she'd hurried away to meet with him in the spot they'd agreed upon before, only to be met with a raised eyebrow and an amused half-smirk. He wasn't angry though, and she knew he'd felt things change, at the same time she had, knew he'd been remembering all the same moments.

"_Lass_," he'd breathed out in exasperation, but he'd cupped her cheek and kissed her hard, and he didn't ask why she'd done it. She knew that he understood. Because she'd wanted him there all along, because she'd realized a long time ago, that _together_ was where they belonged, and she'd wasted so much time, living in the past.

It was ironic that it would be a trip back in time that would make her realize that she _wanted_ those wasted days _back_.

And when they finally made it home, and Henry was hugging them both and jokingly calling Killian "Dad" - the way Emma remembered him doing for the past _year_ now, she couldn't be sorry for any of it.

She'd wanted the chance to _win_, she'd wanted it for both of them. And they'd more than earned it, after everything they had both been through. And she knew that there might be a price to pay for it later, but in her mind, it was worth it, it was worth the happy memories they both had, the past few years of their lives - miserable before they'd found each other, but better now, brighter now, all because of one changed moment.

And when they'd talked about their year apart, the one that neither of them could have stopped, no matter how much they'd wanted to ... when he told her how he'd found her, she couldn't even say she was surprised. She'd just kissed him again, and felt all the pieces falling perfectly into place.

This was _home_. This was _right_. And given the chance to do it all over again, she wouldn't have changed a single thing.


End file.
